Catch Me When I Fall
by peppymint
Summary: Gambit needs help. Whether or not he actually wants it is a different matter. There is both a light and a dark version so, choose your poison.
1. Dark Version

_I own nothing and no one_

**The Dark Version**

Dr. McCoy took a deep gulp of the pitch black coffee. Truth be told, the copious amounts of caffeine in his system were the only thing keeping the mutant both aware and awake. Save for his patient, he was alone in his lab, having sent the others to bed under doctor's orders. There was nothing they could do, and besides the group needed the rest. Between this and the recent death of one of the students, no one had been getting much sleep lately.

Deep within himself, Hank was beginning to wonder if there was anything he could do. Gambit had now been unconscious for almost five days, and he showed no signs of awakening. Hell, the doctor wasn't even entirely certain what was wrong with the Cajun. Remy had just spontaneously collapsed. The only bright spot in the whole affair was that his patient was not noticeably getting worse either.

The mutant turned, only to receive a face-full of airborne sedative. It took affect almost immediately, the Styrofoam coffee cup slipping from nerveless fingers. Hank barely had time to recognize his attacker before the darkness totally encroached on his vision. His last thought being one of horror, how had the other gotten inside the institute.

The man known as Mr. Sinister's face was impassive as his eyes momentarily studied the unconscious figure dangling from his fingers. It wasn't concern that had prompted him to catch Dr. McCoy, but a simple desire to minimize any noise. It would take more than a simple five foot drop to harm the Beast.

Once the other was situated on the floor, Essex turned to the true object of his attention. He approached the hospital bed on silent feet, removing the medical chart from its spot on a nearby table. The geneticist quickly flipped through the information, committing it to memory.

After a moment Sinister sighed. "Remy, Remy Remy," he chided the still figure. "What have you done to yourself this time?" He had his suspicions of course, no one knew the Cajun's physiology the way he did. However, he would wait to make any premature announcements until he had the boy back at his own lab.

Throughout all this Gambit remained insensate. Completely unaware of the situation he was in, even when Mr. Sinister leaned over to whisper in his ear. "I very much doubt you will be grateful," the geneticist said softly. "But in the end, that doesn't truly matter." After all, what could not be bent, could always be broken.

He would prefer that Remy serve him willingly. However, if it came to that, Sinister was more than capable of forcing the issue. "It is time to come home now my son," the red-eyed man whispered. "If you are capable, than I suggest you say your goodbyes. You will not be returning here." Essex had no intention of risking Gambit through close contact with the X-Men. There were a multitude of other tasks the cajun thief could fulfill for him without getting anywhere near his former comrades.

When the X-Men discovered Hank's unconscious body, it was far too late. Gambit was gone, and there was no way to find him. Not until Sinister wished it, and sociopathic scientist never would.

_Brr, I blame this on too much time daydreaming about other peoples fics. It is the original, but then I remembered. _

_It is Father's Day. So, if you want something not so gloomy, so read the light version._


	2. Light Version

_I do not own the X-Men_

_Thought I do dream sometimes about owning Gambit_

_But then, who doesn't?_

**The Light Version**

Dr. McCoy removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to will off a headache. His eyes were bloodshot. Over the last five days, he had not gotten nearly as much sleep as he had needed, and it was beginning to show.

"You will find a solution Hank," Charles tried to comfort him. "It is only a matter of time."

The Beast managed a wane smile. He appreciated the effort, even if he didn't entirely believe the other. "Thank you for your faith professor," he said. "However," Hank admitted with a sidelong glance at his patient. "Currently I am at a loss to determine even what is wrong with our Arcadian friend."

No one had seen it coming. Remy had seemed fine. A little tired maybe, but then they all had been after the last couple weeks. Then one day, the Cajun had just pitched over. Right between the living room and kitchen. He had been unconscious ever since.

"Then perhaps," a cool, familiar voice spoke from the doorway of the medical lab. "I can be of some assistance." The group tensed, immediately fanning out between Remy and their unexpected visitor.

"What do you want Sinister?" Cyclops demanded, his visor glowing red. It was an effort not to blast the geneticist on the spot. If not for the delicate instruments surrounding them, he probably would have.

"As I said," Essex repeated. "I have come to offer my assistance in the matter of Gambit's extended repose." Anything else was, quite frankly, not the X-men's concern.

Scott gritted his teeth. Only Sinister could refer to something that amounted to a coma as though Remy had just nodded off while sunbathing. "And why should we trust you?" he asked coldly.

The geneticist did not get a chance to reply. "I believe Scott," Dr. McCoy interrupted. "That the question is, can we afford not to." In spite of the general unpleasantness surrounding Mr. Sinister, he was undoubtedly the best in his field.

Cyclops turned slightly to observe the Beast's unusually serious countenance. It was really that bad? He turned to look at the others, settling on the professor. Xavier nodded slightly. Scott turned his attention back to Essex. "Fine," he hissed. "But we are staying." There was no way he would let the mad scientist work on Gambit unobserved.

The red-eyed man nodded, unperturbed by the team leader's proclamation. As long as they stayed out of his way, the X-men could watch all they wanted. His only concern now was waking the younger man. Sinister walked calmly through the assembled group, uncaring of how vastly outnumbered he was.

For the next few hours, the two doctor's went over the information Hank had already collected. The flow of scientific jargon made it impossible for anyone else, save perhaps Xavier to follow the conversation between the pair.

A faint frown passed over Sinister's features as he stared down at the readout. This did not make sense. "Physically," he commented to the room at large. "There does not appear to be anything wrong with him." Perhaps the equipment at his own lab would give more in depth results. Upon voicing the thought, the scientist was immediately shot down.

Essex sighed. "I thought not." Of course, there was one other possibility. That Remy's problem wasn't physical. "Has there been anything unusual that has occurred at the institute recently?" he questioned. "Even the most minute occurrence may be of great significance."

There was a moment of silence. "Angela," Jean said at last. "The Phoenix's eyes filling with tears.

The geneticist raised one eyebrow in inquiry. "Elaborate."

"Angela was one of our students," Cyclops answered. A tick appeared in his cheek as the mutant's jaw clenched. "She was cornered by a FoH mob two weeks ago. They beat her to death." The teenage girl's mutation had not been a powerful one. She hadn't stood a chance. The tragedy of her death was compounded by the fact the killers had gotten off scott free.

"But," Rouge objected looking a bit uncertain. "What does this have to do with Remy?" He had been upset, they all had. But still. "It wasn't like she and the swamp rat were close," she voiced.

Sinister however had gone perfectly still, akin to a snake that was about to strike. A death at the institute, more than that a murdered child. No doubt such an incident would create tremendous amounts of grief and rage, emotions that would permeate the whole of the school, and all the people in it. His crimson eyes focused on Gambit's still face, a theory formulating in his mind.

There was only one way to be certain. "Have you a power inhibitor somewhere in the residence?" he inquired.

Hank's eyes went wide. "You believe Gambit's powers are doing this to him?"

"Indirectly," Essex answered. "I do."

Without another word the Beast removed an inhibitor collar from a nearby drawer, slipping it around the Cajun's neck. He kept it on hand should an injured patient become out of control. The moment it activated, the biokinetic field around the unconscious man flicked off, leaving Remy's mind vulnerable to telepathic intrusion.

Essex had barely entered that astral plane when Professor Xavier appeared before him, blocking his way. _"What are you doing?" _the other telepath demanded. Charles was more than ready to kick the other out, should his intentions prove malevolent.

"_Merely testing my hypothesis," _Sinister replied impassively. _"You are welcome to accompany me, should you wish."_

Cautiously Xavier nodded, and the pair entered Remy's mind. Meanwhile, Jean was forced to restrain her husband when he attempted to blast Essex. It took them quite a while to calm the man down.

Charles looked around at Remy's psych in curiosity. It was not what he had expected. It was full of twists and turns, not at all the way a non-telepaths mind was usually laid out. In all honestly, he felt hopelessly lost. However, Sinister seemed to know where he was going, and so Xavier followed.

The professor's eyes widened as they turned a corner to come face to face with Remy Lebeau's astral form. The Cajun was sitting on the ground, wreathed in shadows, both hands clamped over his ears. His red on black eyes, usually so full of live, seemed oddly empty.

This shouldn't be possible, Charles thought to himself. Not unless, not unless Gambit possessed some form of psi abilities he realized. A sick feeling passed through him. How could he not have noticed. Almost four years the younger man had been with the X-men, and he hadn't noticed. What was almost worse, Essex had.

Meanwhile, Sinister had knelt next to the Cajun. _"Remington?" _he said. _"Remington can you hear me?"_

Remy flinched, his eyes still not quite focusing. "_Hurts," _he croaked. _"'S too much." _Too much pain, too much anger, it was all just too much. He had pulled his shields as tight as he could, and still it hadn't been enough.

"_You have to come back now," _Essex ordered. _"You can't stay here." _Mentally he cursed the younger man's stubbornness. How could Remy have allowed himself to get in such a state? He should have left the institute the moment he realized he was in trouble.

"_The pain will stop?" _the Cajun murmured the question, still out of it.

"_Yes," _the scientist promised as he helped Remy to his feet. "_The pain will stop." _With the inhibitor collar on, the other's powers would be unable to reach past his own body.

On the trip back, Xavier was fairly silent, still stunned by how he had failed one of his X-men. At last he looked up at Sinister. _"Gambit is a telepath?" _he asked.

A pair of crimson eyes looked coolly back. "_If he was, this situation would not have been an issue. Remy is an empath."_

Charles nodded as they left the astral plane, regaining control over their physical bodies. A brief moment later Gambit stirred, his red on black eyes fluttering open to land on Sinister. "Father," he murmured, mind still fuzzy from the ordeal.

The X-men stared in shocked disbelief as Essex gently smoothed a bit of stray hair back behind the Cajun's right ear, a smile of satisfaction on his face. It was pleasing to know the boy acknowledged him on some level. Though he was certain Remington would be furious with himself once he regained his senses. But for now, "yes my son." He answered softly. "Now go back to sleep. Things will be better in the morning."

Remy's eyes slid shut, and a moment later he was out. This time, resting comfortably. Sinister's expression dared someone to say something as he opened a portal back to his lab. He only paused to throw one last look at Professor Xavier. "I trust you will ensure this does not happen again," his voice held an unspoken warning. Charles nodded once, and with that, the geneticist was gone.

_Hope you liked it_

_And, should you be looking for a Remy Plunnie to adopt as your very own_

_Please check out my corral entitled Scribbles and Scratches_

_It would make me very happy _


End file.
